


Damn it, Kid.

by tinycrown



Series: Did you give him caffeine? [1]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, F/M, Father and Son stuff, Gen, They're all young, and finding treasure, but theyre kinda coolio i guess, i have my own origin story for nate meeting charlie and chloe, its pretty great, just read it, long tags are long, pretty much nate sam and sully goofing around, sam and victor are like ehh, sams freakin stubborn, this is kinda good, young doods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: Sully's picked up a runt, a trailer, a companion. It's not like it's unwanted, but it's hard work. He has a task of raising a rowdy kid and then meeting his fierce brother. And then dealing with all that bullshit.Could he just have two minutes to think, please?Well, it wasn't like they bothered him, but getting them to open up and talk to him was a lot harder, and a bit more stress-inducing than running from guns and RPGs.





	1. Second Story Work

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy mfs

Second Story Work

 

The minute he sees that scrawny street rat holding the astrolabe, Victor knows it’s over. That kid has somehow wormed his way into making Victor open his eyes to the manipulative, snarky asshat of a woman standing in front of him. The boy is doubled over, holding his cheek. No doubt the slap was stinging from Marlowe’s dry hands. Victor sees nothing but a red target painted of Marlowe’s back, and she’s a bright light out in the open. 

   The kid is defiant and cocky, but he’s alone, trapped, and puppy-guarded into a corner. The ring, nowhere to be found, is ironically on the boy’s person. Poor kid’s gotten himself into something he shouldn’t have. I wonder if he even knows how much of a target he is now. Victor thinks, a confident attitude covering a protective point of view. 

   The pickpocket makes a break for it up the stairs, sneakers slapping against the carpeted steps. It’s a miracle the alarms haven’t gone off by now. Victor does the stupid thing and goes off after the kid himself, but not for the ring. _Kids’ gonna ruin me._ Victor growls, throwing one of Marlowe’s men into the wall, gutting his stomach with his fists. 

   “Beat it, kid!” His voice is strained with the yell of a struggle, watching him bolt off and make a leap of faith for the capitol building. Victor prays he makes it up. The metal gutter gives out beneath his frame. It doesn’t hold and Victor’s propelling himself off the roof and reaching for the ledge.

The kid falls through the balcony and breaks a table instead.  

He watches in amazement and awe as the kid stands up and runs. How the hell can he walk that off? Seeing two black suits, Victor realizes that he’s being followed by Marlowe’s aids.

Shit.

Victor takes off, sprinting down another roof and meeting the kid as he’s cut off. Unluckily, he jumps onto a dead end. A man tackles him off the roof. The kid had definitely never killed someone based on the shock of the situation. 

Victor doesn’t pay attention but the next thing he knows, he’s shot a brit in the chest and the kid is pointing a gun at his head. Victor doubts the chamber is loaded, but he takes caution. With a solemn expression, he shoves his pistol into the holster and walks slowly toward the kid, helping him up and taking the gun from his violently shaking hands, throwing it on the ground. The teen looks lost and confused, generally dazed but he looks up at Victor with deep mistrust in his eyes. Right, Victor groans internally, Stranger danger. 

“You’re okay, kid.” Victor has a feeling he isn’t and he’s kidding himself into another fantasy. But for now, he’ll play along. 

 

“You can relax, kid. We’re safe here.” Victor walks back to their table with a soda and a beer, the delicious scent of grilled franks and sliced avocado making the kid’s mouth visibly water. “Go on.” The kid looks between him and the plate and doesn’t take it. 

“Suit yourself. Y’don’t want it.” victor takes the plate and uncaps his beer, taking a sip. The kid doesn’t sit. He only stares. 

Victor feels unsettled. 

“What d’you want from me?” 

“A little gratitude would be nice. I did just save your ass back there.” Victor says in a laid-back manner. He takes out his lighter and pops a cigar, taking a long drag. “And for you to eat, cause I sure as hell don’t want it.” He pushes the plate forward and the kid narrows his eyes. Victor raises his eyebrows and waits until he sits down. 

The kid picks up the fork and starts to eat, slowly. He looks up at Victor. In an annoyed tone, he says, “Thanks.” Victor gives him a lazy smirk. 

Their conversation is interesting, leading up to finally getting the kids’ name, an odd one. Nathan “Nate” Drake. A treasure hunter but only going off books and rumors and old-fashioned clues, working hard with blood, sweat, tears, and bullets, while Victor can get location accuracy in just two hours. Honestly, Victor feels like he’s cheating at the puzzle. This kid works harder in a day than Victor does in a week. 

Nate finishes the plate, leaving the corn, stating he doesn’t like having the skin stuck in his teeth. He finishes the last sip of beer and ashes his cigar, Nate making a face at the smell. 

“Not used to it?”

“I’m used to cigarettes.” 

Victor nods, pushing back from his chair and standing, stretching out his back. The kid follows and tucks his journal into his bag. “I got a room here. You got anywhere to stay?” 

The kid pauses for a minute before giving him a sheepish look. “Does a toolshed count?” Victor grimaces. Nate winces and looks away awkwardly. “I don’t have anything there, really. I just sleep in it. I spend most of my time at the library.” He says quickly as if he was trying to justify himself like he said something bad. Victor sighs. “Well, I hope you didn’t pay rent on that place. You can take my bed.” Nate pulls a face. “No, I’m fine.” 

“Nate, we’re partners now. You’re gonna stay with me. No kid should stay out there while I got a nice warm bed in here.” 

Nate seems to understand that Victor’s not gonna give up, and he sighs. Rubbing his temples, the kid drops his hands. “Lead the way.” Smart kid. 

Victor leads him up the stairs, unlocking the door to a nicely cleaned hotel room, two duffels in the corner of the room and a stack of papers on an end table. Nathan hesitates on stepping inside, probably feeling like a dirty sock compared to the clean vibe. 

Nate’s skin is tanned, leaving pink scars to stand out against the darker area. He’s got baby blue eyes, full of mischief and innocence. His hair is a light brown, dirty and greasy. His shirt is stained with dust and dirt, his pants slightly ripped and shoes are torn and falling apart. 

_I’ll have to talk the kid into getting new clothes. A few pairs, too. It wouldn’t kill him,_ Victor had plenty of extra money to spare. He wasn’t a cheapskate. True, Victor never took kindly to children, hell, he’s rejected the thought of fatherhood ever since he turned twenty. And he never liked teenagers. He’d seen the punk-ass attitude himself, from a group of kids in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Nate steps in reluctantly, after five minutes of an awkward staring contest. Impatient, Victor steps out into the balcony and keeping the sliding door open. The cold breeze brushes softly against his face. He takes a cigar out of the box nestles in his shirt pocket, taking out the lighter fit in tightly next to it. His thumb chinks the flint and the small flame warms the top of the cigar and Victor clicks it closed, stuffing it back into the box. 

The tobacco fills his lungs and he feels relaxed, blowing it out smoothly. It takes a minute to realize a body was breathing behind him.

He was slightly wrong. The kid was on the other side of the balcony, sitting on the fence, which gives Victor a damn heart attack as he stumbles for a minute. “Christ, kid.” 

Nathan huffs amusedly, turning his head a little and smiling. “Sorry,” Nate says quietly, faint sounds of a pencil on rough paper the only soothing thing he hears. “You got spare clothes kid?” 

“Kind of.” The kid looks at him sheepishly, then down to the streets below. 

“Not to seem ungrateful… but… why are you doing this?” Victor feels a little bit of pity, the kid probably thinking Victor will throw him out later. Sighing, he flicks some of the afterburn off the cigar. Not having a full answer, Victor stays silent. “Go clean up, okay? We’ll get more into this tomorrow,” he says, grabbing his bicep gently, and helping him off the fence. “You can grab a spare shirt from my duffel if you want.” Victor offers and ashes his cigar fully, closing the door behind him and sliding the curtain. Victor slips out of his guayabera and changes into sweatpants and folds his clothes up as Nate disappears into the bathroom with one of Victor’s shirt. One of the ruined ones, he notes. 

He sees the kid’s bag and resists the urge to snoop through it. He figures there’s nothing gossip-worthy in there anyways. A book and a pencil, probably. The showerhead turns off and the kid steps out, drying his hair with a towel and is clothed in Victor’s too-big, slightly ripped shirt. His other clothes are discarded but he has his own pair of sweatpants. Granted they were a little big him but the kid didn’t seem to care. 

Victor can take a gander at the strange look behind Nate’s eyes like he’s missing something dear. But as soon as he fiddles with the ring, he loses the spark and becomes focused as pencils come to paper. 

Victor spends a full five minutes staring into space before he notices Nate looking at him warily, his writing has stopped completely and he’s curled defensively up against the couch. “Sorry kid, just thinkin’.” 

Just thinking, indeed. 


	2. Stop Thinking and Think Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate spies on birds, Sully gets a call.

“So you can what, climb a sixty-foot wall and  _ maybe  _ survive?” Sully asks, eyebrows raised in disbelief as Nate manages to scale the somewhat stable, ruined rock wall and settle at the top carefully and look down at him with a smirk. He shrugs and gives him a carefree look. 

“Believe it or not I used to have some equipment.” Sullivan gaped in sarcastic awe, chucking at the teen who rolled his eyes and twisted his torso to the side as he laid down on the rock wall. It was probably uncomfortable, looked like it was, but the kid didn’t seem to care any less. He sighed and turned his back on the wall and fished a cigar out of his jacket pocket, flipping the lighter open with a click as he lit it and took a heavy drag. 

“Isn’t it a little early to be smoking?” Nate commented, his nose wrinkling at the sharp stench. It was much more pungent than a cigarette, that’s for sure. Sully scoffed over the cigar and clasped it between his fingers as he blew it out into the humid air. He had more concerns at the moment. They hadn’t exactly left Cartagena yet, but they were lying low and making sure Marlowe couldn’t track the kid down from her hidey hole in the upper city. 

He was a little worried about Nate accidentally exposing himself to her out in the open. Marlowe had eyes everywhere, in every pub, hotel and store. It was freakish how long her connections were. But as long as he kept Nate close to him when they were out and about, they’d be fine. 

“Hm. Maybe, but I’m not really concerned about that right now.” He takes another long drag and sighs it out through his nostrils, appreciating the burn. He’d let himself get sidetracked thinking before he responded. He could feel the peculiar stare on the back of his head as he struggled to keep a cringe down at his own forwardness. Second day with this kid, almost gut-shot twice and he was being a bit unfair. The kid could hold his own. Sully didn’t  _ need _ to protect him. He said he’d teach him a few things, sure. But… that wasn’t the real point. He didn’t need to take the kid in at all. In fact, his whole reasoning was completely arbitrary. There were at least hundreds of kids in this whole continent that needed a warm bed and a teacher. Nate didn’t  _ need _ him and he didn’t  _ need _ Nate… but maybe-

 

“You’re thinking too hard.” He heard a flat voice call down to him. “Is it about her?” The kid suddenly appeared next to him and had his arms crossed, bruised fingers hidden under the crease of his elbow as he shifted his weight to his other foot. When Sully didn’t respond Nate pursed his lips and turned to face his side. “You don’t seem like the type to dwell for so long... What’s wrong?” It sounded like he was asking himself more than his mentor, with a far-away tone as his eyes drifted to the view Sullivan seemed to be lost in, but not looking clear enough. 

“Only a little bit. She’s at the forefront of my worries right now. She’s got eyes everywhere.” He could feel the flinch from Nate.  _ Shit _ , he shouldn’t have said that. The kid might act mature- okay,  _ slightly _ mature, but he still didn’t need to worry about that stuff. He was the adult. He dealt with it, not Nate. But shouldn’t he? Nate was being hunted now, too… if they could cover their tracks maybe, get out of the country. They must’ve already started combing Cartagena for them by now, just to plant two more bodies in the dirt. Marlowe was ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted. Her secondhand man was currently on another mission in India, but he didn’t know his name. Young guy, younger than him but older than Nate, definitely. 

“Should I- should, ahem,  _ we _ be worried?” The kid looked up at Sully with wide eyes, though he tried to mask the concern it wasn’t working very well. He could tell with the way he fidgeted nervously as he looked around. He picked at his fingernails, which  _ still _ had dirt under them despite him washing them like, three times. It was the little things. He could tell Nate was a nervous kid and had  _ way _ too much anxiety for a what, a fourteen-year-old? He lifted his hand slowly, so he didn’t spook the kid, and set it on his shoulder gently. 

“We won’t have to for now. We just have to be careful. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious and stay close to me, okay? You’re gonna be okay. I said that yesterday, remember?”  _ Dammit _ , why did he say that? It was like he was treating him like a toddler! Well, he did look a little comforted by that fact. He was just afraid Nate’s teenage rebellion would kick in and decide he’d be better on his own. Which,  _ clearly _ , he wouldn’t be. He didn’t want to push too hard. Not like his dad-

_ Wait _ .

_ Stop that. Don’t think like that. The kid has barely warmed up to you, Sullivan. Don’t push this any further than it has to go.  _

He let the thought go and took another look at Nate. He seemed a bit more relaxed, but the hairs on his neck were on end and Sullivan quickly removed his hand, forgetting it was there.  _ Old _ . Nate sighed and plopped down, right there, next to his feet as he rested his chin on his knees and yawned. It  _ was _ still early. They hadn’t eaten yet and he had rations back at the motel. Granola bars and all that jazz. Just as he thought about it, the kids’ stomach gave an audible rumble and his cheeks became flushed as he faced the ground sheepishly. 

Sully chuckled and hefted him up by the elbow as they began the trek back into town. 

 

It’s almost noon time when his burner starts to ring. It startled the hell out of Nate, who he can guess isn’t used to phones and in response, he grimaces apologetically. He flips it open and accepts the call, knowing the contact. Rejhit Marson. A foreigner that lived pretty close by. But his odd jobs were always so far. Out of reach from any contact, which left Sully. The traveling conman, as Rejhit, dubbed so cleverly. 

“Sullivan! My good, reliable friend! I have a few exciting things to speak about with you! Are you available?” The plastic feel of the man’s demeanor made Sully cringe inwardly, but he huffed a laugh and stepped out onto the balcony. “Hey, yeah I’m free. It’ll be good to see you again, bud.”

“That is wonderful, Sullivan! I will meet you at the usual place tonight. Seven thirty sharp?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” Sullivan sighed as he hung up. The phone was held limply in his hand. He considered dropping it over the ledge, but that would be hardly fair to all the contacts who just  _ loved _ his work. He stuffed it back into his pocket and trudged back into the living room. 

“Be at  _ least _ presentable by six. We’re gonna go meet a contact and as friendly as he is, he  _ really _ doesn’t like street rats.” Nate looked over, confused. 

“The guy you were talking on the phone with is a contact?” Sully nodded and chewed on his upper lip. 

“Unfortunately.” He realized he neglected to tell Rejhit about Nate, but a little surprise would be fine. He could pass him off as a nephew or something. He’d probably fall for it. The guy was bright, but not that bright. Smart when it came to deciding how much an artifact was really worth, not smart enough to figure out what relations were without blood testing and an official doctor. Sullivan sighed. 

Eight and a half hours of waiting.

 

When the time came the kid was  _ actually _ presentable. He was wearing a clean long-sleeved grey shirt and jeans. He kept the ring tucked under the shirt and his bag was slightly fresh than it looked this morning. His hair was still a right mess but it wasn’t greasy and his face wasn’t caked in dirt. Sullivan couldn’t get his eyebrows to drop. 

“What?” Nate blurted, noticing the playfully shocked stare and looking at the ground with a flush in his face as he fiddled with the strap of his bag. “Are we gonna go or not?” Sully chuckled, patting him on the shoulder and pushing him toward the door with a smile. 

“Didn’t expect you to be able to get rid of the dirty street rat look.” Nate shrugs, a carefree look to match his tone. 

“I’m pretty good at faking it for an hour or two.” He pushed open the motel door and walked toward the car quickly, trying to ignore the stares of their neighbors. Hard glares at Sully and concerned ones at Nate. They probably knew that Sully’s never had a kid in his room before, and were assuming the worst. Nathan kept his head down and got into the car as Sully unlocked it. 

The car ride was silent, and a bit awkward. Nate was curled into the door, watching the buildings go by. Sullivan flicked his eyes over to him and back at the road. It looked like he was sleeping. He decided not to say anything and keep his eyes focused on the road. 

 

“Sullivan! So good to see you again, my friend!” Rejhit said warmly, the pub relatively empty save for Rejhit’s goons that were stewing at the bar, getting drunk. Nathan stayed close behind Sully, a bit nervous as he tentatively put a hand on his back. He peered around Sully’s frame and looked up at the man who was now curious of his presence. His skin was a dark tan, with slicked black hair and a pencil mustache. He had dark piercing eyes that bore into Nate as Sully revealed him. 

“It’s good to see you too, Rejhit. This is my business partner, Nathan.” He put a hand on the nape of his neck and moved his thumb slowly to calm him. The pickpocket was still tense, but he stayed close to the pilot and kept his chin up, not backing down. 

“I didn’t know this business consisted of children, Sullivan,” said Rejhit carefully, his eyes narrowed as he studied the teenager. He paced from side to side for a moment and Nate crossed his arms defensively. 

“Well, not normally. But sometimes we don’t get a choice.” Sullivan responds, equally low as he steps back in front of the kid to direct the view back to him. “Let’s discuss this heist, yeah? Kids good at what he does.” 

They sit down at a booth as Nate doodles, waiting for his role to be spoken to him. He takes a moment and looks up at the two and he noticed that Rejhit kept taking quick glances at him. There was no indication with his head. Only his eyes shifted slightly to not alert Sully. Nate returned to his book and shifted his body toward his mentor and leaned against the booth tiredly. 

“Okay, Nate-?”

“Call me Nathan.” the teenager snapped up quickly with a harsh look. He raised a brow at Rejhit’s surprised look and returns to doodling casually. 

“Okay,” he huffs. “Nathan, your role in this is gonna be pretty sneaky. You are going to be unarmed and just deactivating the alarms and swapping out the dimmed lights for the emergency ones so you are both harder to spot when you snag it and get out the entryway through the foyer.”

“Where’s my entry point?” Nate asked, stuffing the notebook back in the back and leaning crossed arms against the table. Rejhit hesitated and flipped the blueprints a little more open to reveal the outside locations and positioned it for Nate to see the red ‘x’ by the vent opening.

“Through here. An exit vent on the second floor. There’s a tree leading to it if you want to be bold, or there’s a column next to it. You’d have to be careful about detection though. They’ve hired a new guard crew, and they look mean.” Rejhit warned, holding up a finger and jabbing it in both of their directions as he raised his brows. 

“Now, Victor, my friend. You will be waiting for the emergency lights to turn on to make your way to the third floor. You’ll be stationed on the second floor after Nate goes in. It should take five minutes to flip the lights so it shouldn’t be too long. After the lights go out, you meet on the second floor and make your way to the sub level where the new artifacts are being held. It’ll be heavily guarded but I believe the two of you can slip through easily. Grab the artifact and get out through the roof. It’ll be propped. Everything understood?”

The duo looked at each other and nodded. They turned back to Rejhit who slipped them the two papers. One, the blueprints and two, the photo of the artifact. It was a reasonably sized figuring in a vase shape. Two arms jutted out from the sides, palms up the same direction as the face went. There were intricate carvings laid out amongst the face and bottom of the figurine. 

“Are you ready to roll out for tomorrow?” 

Sully gave Nate a hard look. They nodded in sync once more and took the photos, folding them and stuffing them into Nate’s satchel as they left.


	3. The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate doesn't like dark rooms.

Nate mounted the tree branch, crouching at the body and squinting inside the building. He held up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button, turning the volume down to not alert the guards below him. He whispered tentatively, “I am in position.” He waited a few moments, glancing around nervously. The first job he’s ever been on  _ officially _ without having to do it the dirty way. Well, the  _ less _ dirty way. He didn’t want to screw this up. 

“Ready to go.” Nate almost fell out of the tree, scrambling to plant himself against the brunt of the tree as he fumbled with the walkie-talkie. A guard made a strange sound and looked up at the tree. Nate muted the walkie-talkie and held it close to his chest and curled up, eyes wide as he took shallow breaths to prevent the man from seeing him. The guard turned and resumed his post and Nate rested his head against his knees and let out a quiet breath. He shook his hands and unmuted the walkie-talkie, crawling forward carefully and lifting the vent cover, foolishly unlocked, and slipped inside. 

He made his way swiftly through the vents and dropped into a dark hallway. He made sure to land as lightly as possible as he kept low and flicked on a flashlight. He crouched and stayed close to the wall as he moved. He checked each door label, the light glaring back into his eyes as he read the titles. 

_ Broom Closet…. No. _

_ Polish Supplies- definitely not.  _

_ Museum Director’s office- oh god, no.  _

He passed by at least three more offices before he found the power room. He took out the bobby pin Sully offered him and jammed it in the lock, wiggling the metal around before pushing at a click he heard. The door unlocked and he opened it quietly, squeezing his body through the door and locking it shut before he flashes the light to the power box and pulls it open. He sees the red switch and the emergency switch and quickly reverses them. Diving out the open window to his right, he clung to the stones sticking out and made his way toward Sully’s position. 

He slid down a pipe and stopped next to the window, hanging on the cutout of the wood and peering inside. Sully was there behind the desk, looking right back at him with a smirk. It was dark in the room, save for the emergency lights. He crept forward and opened the window, pulling the teen inside carefully. Nate let out a breathless ‘thanks’ and eyed the guard searching the room, squinting in the dark carefully. 

Sully makes his way behind the guard and swiftly grabs him into a choke hold. Nate winced, watching as the man is knocked unconscious. He helps him shove the guy into the closet, shoving the door closed. “Just down from this point.” Sully gestures to the staircase. 

They jump the staircases, Sully quietly complaining about his ankles and knees as they approach the sub-level door. Nate punches him in the shoulder gently to get his attention as he gestures to the two guards approaching them. They are unspotted but it doesn’t fail to spike Nate’s anxiety. Sully grabs his arm, tugging at the black fabric over his wrist and hauling him up. The teen sees the vent and de-grates it quickly, hefting himself up and in. He crawls into the room quickly and drops down behind the crate, seeing the artifact sitting next to two other similar ones on a crate. 

He stays crouched and moves behind a thick column, plastering himself at the back as he spots Sully’s silhouette in the doorway. He noticed the guards were distracted, facing away from him and Nate took a deep breath and took a few steps before dashing for the artifact. He nabbed it and ducked behind the crate, praying the guards didn’t hear him. 

He heard the clear footsteps getting closer to him and he stuffed the artifact into his satchel and brought his hands close to his mouth, cinching the black fabric of his long-sleeve over his palms and biting at the seams.  _ Just get to the vent. Just get to the vent. _

He went to crouch, but his heel knocked into the crate and made a seemingly louder-than-it-was hollow noise, and Nate froze. All he heard were dashing footsteps before he bolted for the door, pushing the other guard out of the way and bursting through the door, tugging Sully by his wrist up the stairs. 

He got to the third-floor staircase and stopped. They were trapped.  _ Trapped _ . Nate’s breathing quickened and Sully pulled the teen behind him. The older man pushed him toward the open window. A silent indicator to jump. Nate flung the rest of the window open and dived out, landing harshly on his ankle and twisting it so hard it cracked. He yelped and crawled off to the side as Sully landed on his elbow. He sucked in a guttural noise and stood up quickly, glancing at Nate and cursing before hefting him up and into his arms. The pain was lingering as he tightened his arms around the old crook’s neck and hid his face in his elbow, wiping away the painful tears that came with the wound. 

“Hey, little less squeezing, please.” Nate flushed and loosened his grip, hiding a sheepish look. 

“Sorry. It hurts, a lot.” 

Sully sighed as he jogged to the car down the next few streets. “I know.” He placed Nate into the passengers' seat carefully and moved to the drivers, pulling out onto the road as to not look suspicious. 

The tension was thick, the kid shuddering in pain every time he used his ankle. Sully sighed. “I… thought there’d be more to run from, to be honest.” He admitted, flicking the blinker. When Nate didn’t answer Sully pursed his lips. “We’ll head back to the safehouse. He’s bound to have a first aid kit somewhere, right? At least until we can get to a phone. I have a doctor friend.” It was silent for several moments, and Nate looked over at him with a small smile. 

“Thanks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, it's short, I'm not that good at this. I hope you enjoyed it.


	4. What if we stopped for a second?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some foreground on Sam and Nate before Nate refuged to Cartagena.

Nate sat back in the passenger seat, lids shut so tight it formed hard wrinkles at the edge of his eyes. He kept his leg straight, trying to ignore the intense ache in his ankle. He could feel hesitant glances being thrown his way from Sully, who was driving with one hand and positioning his elbow carefully to not hurt it further. Nate knew he landed pretty hard on it. He felt bad, making the old crook carry him to the car. He could have run on his ankle, maybe? Well- it would’ve hurt, a lot, but… he could have tried?

Nate sighed and let his head fall on the seat. They drove carefully, only taking back roads since it was so late and others seeing them leaving so close to the museum might be suspicious. He turned his neck and let his gaze lead past the blurry trees buzzing past them. The street lights were all blending together as his eyes fluttered shut, feeling heavy and miserable. He slipped under and relaxed.

He dreamt a lot of things. Of Sam, of his parents. The Orphanage. But mostly Sam. The night he had to flee. The cops were  _ everywhere _ . Nate could only remember flashing lights as gunshots sounded and feet pounded against the tar and he ran with Sam screaming at him to run as a gunmen shot him in the leg. Nate was able to climb up onto a roof to get out of their sight but only to see Sam carried away in cuffs, limping while at least ten other men were escorted onto a prison van. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking or the graze that lingered on his cheek dripping down his chin and onto the flat of his right hand resting on the concrete railing. 

He felt like crying right then and there. He left him behind. He  _ left Sam behind _ . He felt such anguish and frustration arise in him and he seethed, smashing his fist down onto the concrete and feeling the split in his knuckles bruise. He hissed and pulled it close to his chest. Angry tears welled and poured down his cheeks like the rain that was suffocatingly humid around him. He only realized now that he was soaking wet from top to bottom, raindrops dripping with the blood that flowed down his hand. 

After that, he distinctly remembers trudging back to their motel room and grabbing what he could before the cops came to sack the place. He tugged the denim jacket tight around himself before hauling himself up the drainpipe and making it to the Pawn Shop roof next door as a sheriff’s truck pulled in. 

Later, there was payphone and Nate knew that Sam would still be lined up taking pictures or something, so he called the local precinct. RapidSpanishh flew out of his mouth, as he asked the lady if ‘Samuel’ was there. She confirmed that he was in the lineup and Nate requested to speak with him. It took a few minutes before he heard Sam’s voice. He relaxed. 

“Are you okay? I saw you.. You know…” 

“I was going to ask the same. They.. patched me up. The painkillers are kicking in now. It was just my leg. I didn’t get popped too bad. Are you alright?”

“I’ll live. I grabbed what I could from the motel. But, they’re swamping the place.” He turned his head in the direction he came and took a nervous breath.

“What do you mean ‘I’ll live?’, are you hurt?” 

“Bullet grazed my cheek. But I can barely feel it. Temperature’s dropped and I’m kinda soaked right now, so I’m trying to find somewhere dry to sleep.” 

“Nate..” I could hear the fear and guilt in his voice. 

“When are you getting out?”

“Since I didn’t have a weapon on me and no sign of violent tendencies, technically I’m a victim, but for the B&E I’m in here for at least nine to ten months. I’m at the Penitentiary up north from the church we passed by a while back. Remember?”

“Yeah. The one with spokes for windows?”

“That’s the one. But they said the release date is on the ninth of April.”

“Least’ you got a place for the winter,” he tried to lighten the mood. 

“But you don’t.” 

Nathan stayed silent. Right, prisons are basically the next best thing to paradise for people without homes. At least Sam would be... Relatively healthy.  “Don’t die in there. I don’t have any minutes left.” 

“Be safe, little brother. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nathan heard the same monotone ring as he was hung up. He placed the phone back in the holder and cradled his throbbing hand, exiting the phone booth and taking a sharp right under the overhang tents over shop doors. He shoved his hands into his pockets and ran his uninjured hand through his drenched hair and shoved it out of his eyes, shivering as he pulled the smokey jacket closer to himself for warmth. 

He passed by a late-open diner, seeing an old woman cleaning up. She noticed him and stared for a moment, before frantically gesturing him inside. He doesn’t realize he’s violently shivering before she sits him down on a chair after taking it down off the table. Her voice is warm and soft. She places a thick, dry quilt over him and sits down next to him. 

“ _ Are you alright, my child?”  _ she asks him. He replies in broken Spanish, too overwhelmed by emotions to form a correct sentence.  _ “No.”  _ He takes a moment to stop, after everything, he sits there and stares at his two different hands. One bruised and bloody, one pale and shaky. They’re two different emotions that have a prominent rock in his stomach that won’t digest. 

_ “You are injured _ . _ ” _ Nathan nods, closing his eyes for a long moment before tugging the quilt up against his neck more, leaning snugly into it. It smelled like soft spices combined with Sam’s ashy jacket.  _ “More emotionally than physically, but you know.” _ He smiles, but it comes out to more as a grimace. The woman gives him a soft look, and he slumps. He feels a lump in his throat as he looks up, preventing more tears from raining down his face. She gives him a knowing look. 

“You are not from here, are you?” She asks wistfully. Nate nods and laughs, he cuts it off with a half-choked sob. “No. No, I’m not.”

“You are in trouble, boy?” 

“Not really, but yeah.” 

“Come, I have medical supplies. We will clean you up, but I have a feeling you are more trouble than it’s worth. I will let you stay and dry, but then you must go.” Nathan nods and smirks. 

“I’m gonna call this good luck for now.” She gives him a knowing look with a quirky grin as she starts to clean up his face. But even through the supposed warmth of the closed bakery, he remembered. 

He’s on his own. 

* * *

 

Sully angrily shoved his phone in his back pocket as Nate slept in the car. He yanked a cigar out of his coat pocket and lit it, taking a sharp drag before practically spitting the smoke out. It was relaxing, yeah, but not the situation. Robert couldn’t make it to his hotel room until tomorrow, and he needed Nate’s ankle fixed  _ properly _ . Not by him. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. 

He turned back and looked at the teenager slumbering in the car. He looked disturbed, shifting slightly. Sully’s brows furrowed and he moved back toward the car, he peers in and hears small groans and garbled words. He opens the door and shakes his shoulder, ignoring the click in his fractured elbow as Nathan bolts up with ragged, bated breath. He exhales and closes his eyes. He scoots back, minding his ankle and he gives Sully a pursed-lip grimace, but a grateful nod. “Sorry, just a little tired.”

“It’s alright. Nightmare?” He inquires, slipping into the driver's seat and twisting the ignition. Nathan shrugs and relaxes, slumping into the seat as he watches the road with glazed eyes. 

“Something like that, I suppose.” He ends with a sigh and huffs a chuckle. “Where we off to next?” He looks over at the man, nose wrinkling at the harsh smoke of the cigar compared to the thought of Sam’s cigarettes. A pain settles in his chest at the thought of his big brother but he pans his ears towards Sully instead. 

“Back to the hotel.” 


	5. Who is this guy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan tells Sully about Sam about a week before he's released. The boys reunite but it isn't as warm as we want it to be.

 

When Nate took a proper look at the date he panicked. Because it was April fourth and goddamn did that scare the shit out of him. He hadn’t even told Sully he’s got an aggressive big brother with a slight hero complex in a Panamanian jail. But it’s been so long, he doesn’t know if he’s even the same anymore. Nate takes this all in as he wakes up on Sully’s bed in the motel room, leg uncovered and in a tight black brace. He winces as he looks over to find the sun glaring in his eyes and he grumbles. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep again. Sully should have woken him up instead of carrying him. 

He pushes back the unforgivable cowlicks from his eyes and sits up further, turning his body to let his feet touch the soft carpet below. He raises his injured foot up, not risking the weight as he spots crutches on the dresser just across from him. He reaches forward, fingertips barely grasping before snatching them and slipping the bars under his arms. 

Now… he never actually  _ had _ to use these. But he’s seen other people using them so it can’t be hard, right? He puts weight on the uninjured foot and moves the crutches forward. He takes another tentative step and makes his way, slowly albeit, to the dining room. He smells bacon and his mouth waters. Sully is cooking with an arm strapped securely around his chest. There’s another man with thin glasses and a goatee. He had a light yellow button-up on with the sleeves rolled up and khakis. 

“Morning.” Nate catches himself snapping out of the daze of confusion and stumbles a bit, regaining his footing as he makes his way to the table. He leans the crutches on the wall and sits down, sticking his ankle out as it flares. He clears his throat. 

“Hi.” He wants to smack himself for how awkward he sounds, but he stays through and glances at Sully for an answer. “So…”

“Nate this is Robert Callvo. He’s a doctor friend, used to work in the navy with me. Fixed up your ankle and my elbow. I called him last night while you were asleep.” Nate hums and accepts the water given to him by Robert with a quiet ‘thank you’. He chugs half the glass and rests his head on his forearms. 

“I believe you don’t need anymore help, and the catching up has been caught, so I believe I will be on the way.” Dr. Callvo announces, grabbing his blazer from the opposite chair and nodding to the teen before making his way to the front door. Nate is stunned at the, well, short visit for him, but maybe not for Sully. Nate brings the glass to his lips again, but doesn’t drink. He puts it back down onto the table and clasps it with both hands. 

It takes him a few moments to process what he’s going to say, and hopes the older man won’t smack him for not telling him sooner. It just felt so  _ private _ and the only thing he had control of regarding knowledge about himself that he could protect. But he needs to see Sam and he’ll take a damn bus if he has too. Sully sets a plate down in front of him and he twitches a quick smile. But he doesn’t feel hungry anymore. Will Sully kick him out for not telling him that he’s got a brother, in prison no less? Will he take the ring and leave him in the dirt? There’s a sick twist in his stomach and he moves down to clench his fingers in his lap and wring his palms together like a soaked dish rag. Just as Sully is going to take a bite of his sandwich, (BLT’s in the morning, seriously?) Nate blurts it out like ripping a bandaid off a hairy leg. 

“Sully I have a brother.” 

There’s a moment of silence and he puts the sandwich down. Nate starts to panic, he keeps his head down but his eyes up, lips parted with bated breath as he waits for the yelling. A hand falls in between his shoulder blades instead. Calloused fingers curl comfortably around the nape of his neck and the teen sighs. He doesn’t look angry, good. The crook gives him a sympathetic look at the reaction, like an all-knowing wiseman peering into his thoughts. He slows his breathing and clenches his eyes shut. “I’m sorry I never said anything but I saw the date today and I just freaked-”

“When’s the release date?” Nathan stops. Was it that obvious? He sighs and looks over sheepishly. 

“Five days.” Sully glances at the calendar and nods. 

“Where?” 

“Southern penitentiary in Panama. He told me to just meet him at the old church with the spokes for windows but… I just-”

“Want to make sure he’s safe.” 

“Yeah.” 

Sully nods and goes back to his breakfast. “It’ll take a day’s drive to get there. We’ll have to leave early. We’ll leave at like, six on saturday. That should be enough time for him to be out.”

“You got experience with release times or something?”

“Or something. They usually let you out at two or three o’clock.” Nathan shrugs and takes a bite of his own sandwich. Wow, who knew this guy could cook  _ well? _

* * *

 

Five days passed like nobody’s goddamn business and Sully was  _ not _ happy about this development. The kid was practically jittering in the car even at such an ungodly hour. He was exhausted, obviously sleep deprived yet incredibly anxious. Sully knew he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past two days, worrying about all possible conclusions either including Sam joining a gang or just straight up being dead. Hell, he didn’t even know how  _ old _ Sam was. Was he younger? Older? What was he even  _ like _ ? Nate just kept throwing him more questions than answers. 

Obviously he didn’t know, or maybe that’s what the incredibly guilty look on his face was saying. But through and through, this drive would have to be the most relaxing thing or Sully swore he’d sedate the kid until they got there. They had packed up the motel and moved on, his duffel in the back as well as Nate’s satchel were thrown into the hatchback. 

* * *

 

The kid. luckily, three hours into the drive, managed to calm down and stare out the window. He hummed along softly to occasional songs on the radio and was in and out of sleep. Sully sighed and yawned, taking another long sip from the once warm coffee in the thermos. 

* * *

 

As they got closer to the jail, he could take a good look. It was pretty big, pretty isolated, and had a good sized parking lot. He parked closer to the back and Nate went for the door handle. Sully grabbed his hand. He gave the kid a long, hard look and Nate returned it. 

“Do you want me to come with you, just to make sure?”

“No, I need to tell him about you and explain before he sees you and jumps to conclusions.” Sully nodded and squeezed his hand again before Nate gathered up the crutches and made his way to the prison entrance. He struggled for a moment opening the doors, but a guard noticed him and pulled the door open for him. He smiled and mumbled a quick ‘gracias’ as he made his way to the front desk. A hard-faced man greeted him and Nathan leaned back on the crutches. “ ¿Samuel Drake ya ha sido puesto en libertad?” He asked quickly, cocking his head. The man shook his head. 

“No, pero podemos. Hoy es su fecha de estreno. ¿Eres pariente?”

“Si.” 

“Un momento, por favor.” Nate nodded, and he backed off, watching as he disappeared into a few office doors. 

And about thirty minutes later, out came a man Nate had been afraid of seeing. His big, lovable brother, looked like complete shit. He had a couple bruises on his face and a hard look as he glanced around the room. He was wearing the clothes that he wore on  _ that _ night. They washed them, obviously. Once his eyes landed on Nathan, though, his scowl broke. It was a complete and utter shock. “Fuera de.” He said quickly and motioned to the door, thanking the deskman as they left. 

“I told you to meet me at the church,” Sam said angrily as he caught up with the boy once they were outside. Nate leads them to a tree not too far from Sully’s car but didn’t reference a direction. 

“And I didn’t listen. Sam look-”

“No, Nathan what if they recognized you? They could have taken you away to CPS within a goddamn hour.” 

“Sam, just listen please-”

“And how the fuck did you even get here? And what the hell happened to your foot? Did someone hurt you?-”

“Sam.” He said, finally. The young man stopped and took a look at his little brother. He hadn’t really grown. He was skinnier than when he last saw him. He still had a baby face and frizzy hair. Just a child.  _ Still _ a child. Sam pursed his lips and engulfed the younger Drake into a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. Arms wrapped securely around his lower back, he held the smaller boy there. Nate began to laugh and smack his back lightly. “Put me down, you big jerk. I still have something else to say.” 

“And what is that? Some answers? Just wait a minute. I’m not done missing you baby bug.” He let the boy down gently and kept a hand on his shoulder for stability. Nate shook his head and shoved it into his chest. 

“I made a friend. He saved my life, twice. He helped me find Drake’s ring- and I know what you’re going to say, but you were in prison and I’m very impatient. Besides, I haven’t gotten very far. So there’s still plenty of work to do.” Sam nods, another harsh look settling on his face. 

“Sully is older, though. So don’t get any gross ideas that he’s using me or something dumb like that. I only just told him about you like a week ago. And I was lucky enough that he didn’t take it hard and drove me all the way here to come to get you. He actually really wants to meet you, but I haven’t told him much because I didn’t know... If you would be… you know…” His eyes lowered, “the same Sam I knew.” 

“Why would you think that?”

“Because prison changes people, Sam. Like  _ that _ .” He gently moves his hand across a bruise on his jaw. “I hope you didn’t make shitty decisions in there. I’m not dealing with gangs.” Sam pans his look to the right with a sheepish look. Nate’s eyes widen. 

“No. No, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.” Sam’s heart clenches at the look of worry on Nathan’s face. 

“It’s a small favor, really. Just a favor.” He tries to soothe the boy but the distress is real. He hasn’t seen him this panicked since Evelyn. “Nathan I swear, it’s not bad. The deal was that he’d protect me and that I’d repay him by helping him when he needs me, only  _ once _ , he said. He was a nice guy.” Nathan crosses arms and bends over to grab the crutches, moving back to the car. He slides into the passengers' side, Sam sliding into the back. 

* * *

 

Sully flicks his eyes up to the rearview mirror, seeing Sam eyeing him the same way. There’s a threat underlying in his gaze, and even Nate’s face has gone ashen. He’s noticed. Sam’s changed, or at least that’s what the situation says. He faces to the boy as they turn down the expressway. “You alright, kid?”

“Later, Sully. Please.” He adds, a little guilty at his attitude. He pats his forearm softly and returns to the driving. Sam visibly bristles at the contact. The brothers are tense, and Sully swears the kid looks like he’s about to cry. He tries not to focus on it at the moment and move on to get into town. 

The first thing he noticed about the brothers is that Samuel is  _ definitely _ older. He’s about a head and a half taller than Nate, but just under Sully himself. They are built structurally different, probably the difference in meals. Nate had to fight for scraps while he got daily meals. While they  _ are _ crap, it’s still food. Nate was short, slim and wiry while Sam was tall, broad and lanky at the same time. He could tell he had a pretty big ‘overprotective brother’ stereotype going on and practically murdered Sully with glares from the backseat. 

He sighed. This was going to be a  _ long _ night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¿Samuel Drake ya ha sido puesto en libertad?  
> "Has Samuel Drake been released yet?"  
> No, pero podemos. Hoy es su fecha de estreno. ¿Eres pariente?  
> "No, not yet. I can get him though. Are you related?"  
> Si  
> "yes"  
> Un momento, por favor  
> "One moment, please."  
> Fuera de.  
> "Outside, please."
> 
> I did actual Spanish this time because I'm extra.   
> I'm also sorry I haven't posted in a long time. I get writers' block and forget how to layout a chapter. I hope you enjoy regardless.

**Author's Note:**

> did you enjoy mfs?


End file.
